Chapter Text
An arrow whizzed through the air before hitting the center of the leather target with a satisfying thunk. Another two arrows quickly followed, hitting the target just a few millimeters away from the first arrow. Then, with a flash of curly brown hair, two more arrows hit a target on the other side of the clearing. Alavara quietly walked to the first target and collected her arrows, repeating the process with the other six targets scattered around the clearing until all her two dozen arrows were back in her quiver.
Her training had been going on for years, and the results were apparent. She wrapped a waterproof canvas around her bow and quiver, took off her soft leather boots, and changed out of her brown leather pants and white cotton tunic, putting on her flowy blue dress. When Alavara deemed herself presentable, she hid her weapons in a hollow tree trunk. She would come and collect them later in the day to bring them inside. She then walked towards the village. Everyone was buzzing around doing their daily tasks, going to fetch bread at the baker’s, and feeding their horses.
"Good Morning, Joe!" Alavara greeted, her bright blue-green eyes shining as she entered the bakery to get her daily bread. "How are you?"
"I'm good, lass. How was your training?" Joe was the only person in the village that knew about Alavara's training, as he had caught her entering the forest in the morning some years prior.
"It was good. I am getting better, although I hate that I have to hide this side of me." Alavara answered, dismay in her voice.
"Ah yes, but that is your choice."
"I know, but people already talk about my brother and me. It wouldn't do to give them another reason to do so." She quickly paid for the bread before heading off back to the inn where she and her younger brother, Eroan, had been living after the mysterious disappearance of their mother. Alavara opened the thick wooden door. The only two-story building in the town was made of dark oak with wooden shutters and a heavy door. Around the corner, you could see the stable with three barrel-chested horses permanently residing there.
"You're here late. What took so long?" Agnes, the innkeeper's wife, asked, bustling around the bar, sweeping the floor.
"Oh, you know Joe, he loves carrying long conversations," Alavara explained, hoping the older woman would believe her. "What can I help with?” she asked.
"Have you fed the horses?"
"Yes."
"Thank you. Felicia is starting lunch, if you would please help her."
And so the day went on, Alavara doing her daily chores and helping around the inn. Sometime in the afternoon, while Agnes was having a quick nap and no one else was in the bedroom, Alavara retrieved her weapons from the trunk. She then walked up to the bedroom she shared with the innkeeper's two daughters and Eroan. There were two cots pushed against the wall next to a heavy dark oak dresser.
Alavara lifted the plank of wood that was acting as a fake bottom and stored away her weapons, careful not to damage the items already there. There was an old, tattered book. The pages were worn, and the ink was starting to smear. Of course, this was one of Alavara's most guarded secrets. Nobody in the village could write or read, so it would have been difficult to explain why a seventeen-year-old, much less a girl, could do so. The book, well-loved and read hundreds of times, had a lot of meaning to Alavara. It had been a possession of her mother before her disappearance, and Alavara treasured it.
It had been a cold winter day when Alavara, Eroan, and their mother had been sitting near the hearth, draped in heavy woolen blankets, reading that same book. The story of the elvish warrior maiden falling in love with a human, enthralled Alavara. It seemed so fascinating and otherworldly.
Alavara smiled sadly, remembering a moment that now seemed so far away. She carefully tucked the book away, put the wooden plank back where it belonged, and headed downstairs to start dinner. She had a new life now, and she wouldn't let it be dictated by previous events.